Sirius Fate
Believe it or not, Sirius Fate is well known outside of the school. Not necesarily famous, but well known nonetheless. He is one, in fact the oldest, of the three Fate Brothers. What did they do? Well, you had to ask didn't you. Monster hunting. The three of them were some the greatest monster hunters in history. They were also known as formidable Bounty Hunters. If someone wanted someone else, the Fate Brothers were the men to talk to. They don't give in or give up easily, they don't let personal problems get in the way of the goal, and they know how to get the job done. But now Sirius is seperated from them and has found a lace in the school. Possibly the strangest teacher you will ever meet, Sirius Fate is an antisocial teacher who is very gentlemanly, doesn't like kids, and has a drinking problem. How the hell is he a teacher? The students are still trying to figure that one out. The reason he was hired was not for his personality, but for his skill. He is very good at what he does, and he knows it. He's not egotistical, though he does get in boastful moods now and again. Possibly the biggest reason of ridicule is his constant drinking habit. At the store, in the teacher's lounge, in the classroom, everywhere; he's always pulling out a bottle of alcoholic liquid and guzzling it down. Sometimes he gets drunk, but rarely ever does he show his face when he is. Only those who know him know where to find him when he is drunk, or when he randomly disappears. He has a habit of doing that too. One would naturally think, and many people do, that he would be a terrible teacher. One who doesn't pay attention to his students, never gets anything done in class, and his students don't learn anything. They're all wrong. When he does get serious and teaches his students, there is always something they can attain, thought they might not always know it right away. Sirius is clever, spontaneous, and a bit mysterious. There are many stories of the Fate Brothers, but none of them ever delve into anyting beyond their accomplishments. No one really knows what they are like or what they are about. Especially Sirius. He seems to lie a lot about himself. It comes with the territory. Being a monster hunter is never easy, and they are bound to tick off somebody. So Sirius lies, he drinks, he doesn't like people in general. Sure, he has his flaws, and those have all been heavily magnified in the last hundred words. But what of his good qualities. The thing about Sirius is he cares. He cares about people and their well being, even if he won't admit it. If a student, teacher, or any person was lost in the darkest cave in the darkest forest of the most monster infested territory, he would boldly, and quite rashly, charge off into the night to go save them. He will help those in need and do things for others, but he'll also complain and distress them while doing so. If there's one thing he enjoys, it's a fight, and that is quite possibly his best way to interact with people. Sirius doesn't hate his students, he merely dislikes the age group, calling them immature, childish, and having no clue of reality. Which is a bit hypocritical, seeing how he can be quite immature and isn't the top brand quality of maturity himself. Sirius is young too, not that much older than his students. He seems to be in his mid-twenties, but for all anyone knows he could be older, it's his appearance that keeps his youthfulness. He has pale blond hair, fair skin, and teal colored eyes. He's lean and strong, and has a very misleading, charming smile. Sirius Fate has a very unusual power. He is a cruormancer; he can control blood. He seems to be highly advanced in the technique and magical applications of such a power. Teacher of Battle Training, Controlling Your Powers, and Survival.
Ciel Everett Norcross
take me off
Ciel Everett Norcross: no one knows what to make of him. He's a puzzle. A big puzzle with tiny pieces, maybe a thousand of them. They make a pretty big picture. The box says there's no age limit, only a reccomandation that your IQ is over 120. The picture itself seems far too complex to complete, and when you look at how many pieces there are, you might just give up hope already. But if you choose to strive forward, then maybe you can finish off a small section or two, but never the whole thing. One little section is his age. Sadly all the pieces have odd little corners and shapes, so if you did manage to get parts of that section together, you'd only be confused. A young man of possibly sixteen or seventeen years of age, he not only acts older than he really is, but if anyone bothered to ask, he'd just lie. His appearance is the easy part. The pieces in that section start off large with perfectly matching adjoiners. He is male. He has tan skin. He has spiky red hair that hangs down close to his shoulders. His soul piercing eyes are a ghostly golden hue, faded at first glance, but if one looks long enough, they seem to flash and flicker like the flame of a candle. But then the pieces of that side of the puzzle get small and oddly shaped again. He has a mask on his face. Not the striking mask of a samurai warrior, or the shadowy face covering of an expert ninja assassin, but rather the cumbersome and disheartening breathing mask that you'd normally find in a post-apocalypse movie. What lies underneath? And his body? He's always wearing long sleeved shirts and jackets, long legged pants and tall boots. Is it to hide scars? is he simply insecure about his body? Covering up strange tattoos? Those pieces won't fit and don't even appear to belong together, so you abandon that section and try another one. Ahh, yes. This section is most complicated; his personality. The pieces are all wrong and have the strangest color combinations, lines, and shapes. One of the pieces looks like an eye: he is insightful, clever, and very observant. A book: he is curious, studious, and enjoys reading, literature, history, and the sciences. Black pieces: he is a loner, antisocial, he prefers solitude. A red handprint? How curious. He is dangerous maybe, untrustworthy. Perhaps he is capable of killing. Several pieces fit together, though it is difficult putting them together; they make up a bird in a cage. What could that mean? He's trapped, scared, enslaved? Afraid? Of what? Why is there a bird trapped in a cage? It looks so sad and lonely in there. Is that how he feels? Is he that bird? Or... or is he the cage? Trapping the bird, causing it pain and misery, taking away its freedom and its desire to sing. Move on. There's no more you want to see there. Yes, yes, you want to see more, but who knows what you will find. Go back to it later. Wait, what's this? What is all this? This is a mess! His history. There's really nothing you can do about it is there. And why does a leopard keep appearing? There are lots of leopards, even in the other places of the puzzle. What could leopards possibly have to do with him? He is around them a lot to be sure. Are they protecting him? Is he protecting them? Are they friends? Enemies? Animal guides? Spirit guides even? Do they merely represent something of him in a symbolic manner? Are they another part of him? Or are they just plain old leopards? He has abilities. How strange. Magical abilites even. This part of the puzzle seems quite intriguing. Sadly, the pieces aren't fitting together properly. Well that is very frustrating. We know he has some kind of magical powers, but what are they exactly? Maybe they have something to do with the leopards...
Aro Septimus Nox
Aro Septimus Nox is a cursed boy. Ever since he had the ability to remember, his world has been a tormented one, full of pain, hatred, and death. He is a most unique creature, but it is his uniqueness that makes him the walking form of death itself: he is a Dementor. Dementors have existed for thousands of years, but perhaps it is the famous fiction books Harry Potter that have made them so popular. Those sorts of Dementors are the more recognizable. But those hideous, grotesque beings are not all that Dementors are. Those types of Dementors were once people too. Aro is still in his usual human form, which allows him to pass by most people undetected. He unwillingly feeds off of people's good emotions, always entering a room full of happy people and leaving it cold and full of misery. With his taking of their good emotions, he forces them to relive their most painful memories, over and over again. Many times he tried to save the people he was unintentionally torturing, and many times they begged him to just let them die. Unlike the other Dementors, he does not feel their greed or their joy at causing suffering. His powers are completely out of control. It is the duty of his parents to teach him how to control his powers, but he never had the chance to be taught. And at the mercy his uncontrollable powers, he has paid heavy prices, especially concerning the Kiss of Death, also known as the Dementor's Kiss. A kiss with which the very soul of the person is taken away. With those infernal, twisted Dementors, it leaves a person as an empty shell, but with the full embodied, human formed Dementors, it kills their target and traps the soul inside them. Aro has killed more people with the Dementor's Kiss than he can remember. He cannot stifle all the souls that writhe and shriek inside him. They claw for control of his body, seeking to make him their new vessel, and he fights them constantly. It's a battle of wills he has to win. Sometimes it is not a battle. Sometimes the souls play with him, curse him, let him know just how much they despise him. Or they forgive him. Either way, some can chance upon him seemingly talking to himself. Because of his powers and talking to the voices in his head, he made himself into a complete loner. Over time, he has begun to lose his empathy, making him a very scary enemy. But he is forcing himself to change. He seeks help and a way to control his powers, even if it means taking drastic measures. Despite being a loner, Aro has no idea of his family's whereabouts. He knows they're alive and out there, but they don't pay too much attention to him. He had been abandoned at birth. His parents had to flee for their lives and they left him behind. After so many years of being alone, he had gotten too used to not having a family. He was reunited with his parents when he was fourteen. By then, neither the parents nor the child recognized each other. As soon as the parents discovered how violently dangerous Aro was, they politely told him they didn't want him to travel with them. Aro shrugged it off as though he didn't care, but that day changed him forever. It is what initially fueled him to seek help and a way to end his spontaneous killings. Aro is never what he seems to be, and his moods change so often it can be very hard to keep up. He usually has a very short temper. When you're on his good side, you're on the best side you can possibly be on. Because of his lowered sense of empathy, his powers are even more of something to be feared, for now he will hurt you intentionally and not just sporadically. And when a Dementor is as specific as that, they are a force you do not want to mess with. Aro is a lean built fighting machine with hardened muscle and a strong frame. His hair is shaggy and straight, red with white and black ends. His eyes are a vibrant, constantly glowing blue color, attributed to the hundreds of souls gathered inside, for eyes are windows to the soul after all.
Nautical Godfrey Starace
take me off
Born and raised in the beautiful country of Iceland, Nautical Godfrey Starace lived a primarily comfortable and happy life in his early years. As is apparent in his name, he is not of Icelandic descent. His parents came to Iceland before he was born. Reasons remain unknown to him. When his mother found out she was pregnant, she and his father arranged to put him up for adoption. As soon as he was born, he was shipped off to the closest orphanage. His parents gave the caretakers his name and certificates before taking the first plane away from Iceland. He doesn't feel betrayed or abandoned by his parents, as he was too young to even remember them. He doesn't even really refer to them as his parents, as he has some new ones of his own. When he turned three, he was adopted by a young couple who couldn't have kids. They raised him as their own, but kept his name. A few years later, the household grew. The young couple were blessed with a child of their own, then another, and another. Nautical became the big brother of six kids by the time he was thirteen. It was a very full household, and Nautical helped out constantly. He loved each and every one of his siblings, as well as his parents, dearly. But it wasn't till he turned fifteen that he discovered something was different about him. For one, there was his strange affinity to water, like it was drawing him closer, calling to him. Then there were the times where he, could swear he saw, the water moving when he moved his hand. This went on for some time before he finally confronted his parents. Confused, and maybe a bit scared, he told them of his oddities. They seemed shocked, maybe appalled even. He was eventually ordered out of the room, and the subject didn't pop up again for another week. Finally, he was confronted by his parents. They told him about his adoption, looking more nervous than he had when he told them about his abilities. They said his odd abilities must have come from his birth parents. He was surprised at first, and perhaps, he'll admit, a bit angry. His adopted parents assured him that they always loved him and always would. Nautical didn't doubt them, and despite the revelation, he didn't think of them any differently. Nautical started looking into his birth parents thought, curiosity leading him onward. Unfortunately, all he turned up were various dead ends and no confirmable facts. Frustrated, he gave up the search and turned to the more pressing matter of his ability. He was also discovering other strange things about himself. His amazing talent for swimming was not gained through actual practice. His parents confirmed that he was never taught how to swim. Nautical also discovered that he could navigate through water perfectly, blindfolded even. And despite the water, he never froze in the ocean or overheated in the Icelandic hot springs. He merely retained a constant body temperature. He tried seeking out a teacher, someone who could help him further his abilities. He found one person, an old woman of eskimo descent who journeyed to Iceland from Nova Scotia. She coached him in furthering his abilities with the little knowledge she knew from her father, a water bender. Nautical worked hard to develop his ability of controlling the water, and became quite good at it. During one of his lessons with the eskimo woman, she told him about a school in another dimension called Mercury Boarding School, a place where children like him could further learn about their powers and other talents with more wise teachers and alongside others like themselves. He brushed off the idea, deciding to stay home and help support his six siblings. It wasn't for another year before he changed his mind. He was out in his sailboat, far out in sea, using his navigation skills to guide him towards a group of whales. He was so busy watching them, he didn't notice the sudden storm until it was upon him. Suddenly, the waves became giants and the sky turned blacker than night. Rain came down, hard and sharp like shards of ice, and the thunder roared overhead while lightning flashed. As hard as he tried, he simply wasn't powerful enough to keep the waves at bay, and was tossed about like a rock in a washing machine. The mast on his sailboat was broken off when a giant wave crashed on it. Furiously trying to get control of the boat, he didn't realize he was the tallest thing around. The inevitable happened. He was struck by lightning. He thought he was dead, darkness all around him. Then he woke up, lying sprawled on the shore. Someone else was there, watching him. A woman. Without even bothering to register how cognizant he was, she launched into a long, detailed narrative about who she was. The only thing he really registered, was that she claimed to be his birth mother. She also claimed to know exactly what he was. He is a Sækonungar; a patron of sailors and explorers, a god of the sea. However, Sækonungar are not as powerful as the myths claim they are. They do not have the entire oceans at their beck and call, and now and then the waters do not obey them, and they are not immortal or invincible. It took Nautical a while for him to believe what he was hearing, and when he called her crazy, she flicked her wrist. A giant wave rose out of the water and crashed over his head. She told him it was dangerous for them to ever meet again and that he should leave Iceland. With that, she vanished. Confused, and in a lot of pain from his near death experience, Nautical left the beach and eventually found his way home. When he got there, something had changed about him. His appearance for one. His parents were very surprised to see him. He got them alone from his siblings and told his mom and dad everything that happened. To prove to them he really was what he claimed to be, he pulled water out of the sink and hovered it in the air over the table they sat at before putting it back. His parents were surprisingly alright with the idea that they had indeed adopted a very strange boy. But when he told them he had to leave, thy objected. They wanted him to stay, he was far too young to go out to who knows where. He told them about Mercury. Eventually he convinced them to let him go. He stayed for five months, and on his sixteenth birthday, he packed his meager belongings and went. As far as his siblings knew, he was studying abroad. His family misses them, and he misses them as well. But he's happy at Mercury, surrounded by kids like him with odd abilities, some even stranger than anything he imagined. He feels like he fits right in. Nautical is a Sækonungar. He is a sixteen years of age, a young man with a lean, strong, fair skinned body. His hair is a frosty sea green that shimmers blue in certain lighting. It comes just to his shoulders, is very straight, and silky smooth. His eyes are a strange color, a mix of salmon and wisteria. He can come across as frail and maybe even helpless at times, but don't believe that for a second. It wasn't mentioned in the history, but there is one other thing Nautical did as an early teen: attended a Russian Spetnaz Camp. He had been sponsored by a friend of the family and he took all his training to heart. He will tear your throat out just by looking at it, so watch yourself. He wouldn't do it intentionally though. Nautical is a kind, loving soul, always looking for the best in people, even if there is no such thing. But if you hurt him or his loved ones, well, just don't hurt him or his loved ones. He's an optimist. Had to be. Life for him wasn't easy. Sure, it was happy, but not easy. With so many kids, getting food on the table was a challenge, and school was expensive. But he managed, he survived, and he did it with a smile on his face. He's also very generous. Next to school, extra activities, and volunteering, he works two jobs, keeping the smallest amount he can manage for his own expenses and sending the rest home to his family. He will help out others in need, regardless of risk to himself. He's always trying to help out, force of habit. Usually he works himself to the point of exhaustion, which isn't good and some people worry about him. Nautical isn't all that happy as he appears to be. He has worries about the normal stuff, finances, school, work, etc, but he is always haunted by his mother's warning. Why did she never want to see him again? And why did she make him leave Iceland? He has a feeling there's more than his mother was telling him. He also worries about his condition. Ever since the lightning strike and his near death experience (he's still not sure if he actually died yet) he has had a heart condition. Every now and then it will simply stop for long periods of time. He takes a special, carefully prepared potion for it, but doesn't always remember to get it refilled. Nautical now resides in the dorms of the Mercury Boarding School, sort of an odd one with his heavy Icelandic accent. Nautical's likes water and all kinds of water sports: sailing, kayaking, surfing, swimming, kite surfing, the works. He also loves horses, dolphins, small, furry animals, and nature. He enjoys long walks, eating exotic foods, singing, and archery. His favorite subjects are combat and survival training, and he hates anything to do with math and science. Nautical's powers are associated with water and the sea: navigating in/on water, breathing underwater, controlling and manipulating water, locating water, and some forms of healing.
Andrian Filimor Bellarosa
is quite a mysterious boy. At age fifteen he acts more like an adult than a child. His features also give him a distinguished appearance. He has a young face with sharply angled features and very fair, near pale skin. His eyes are a bright green color, shimmery like gold, and they have a certain look in them, a wise, knowledgable look. His hair is soft as silk and the color of a raven's wing. He has a very lean, body, built of compact, solid muscle. He has literally 2% body fat total. Looking at him, you wouldn't think him so strong. At times he can appear thin and weak. Like a fragile little house that will topple and crumble the moment a gust of wind floats by. But he can handle himself in a fight. He wouldn't dare engage though. Thats what the bodyguards are for. Bodyguards, ah yes, where to begin with those. Andrian Filimor Bellarose is the prestigious son and heir of the Bellarose family. Situated in France, the Bellarose family held vast amounts of land and wealth, holding high favor with the government and figurehead courts. Their history is deeply rooted in the French soil, the bones of their ancestors buried in ceremonial tombs in the graveyard of their castle. Indeed, they still own the Sanctifié Fleur Castle, the beautiful and ancient Castle in northern France. It was nearly destroyed during the World Wars, but somehow, the Bellaroses managed to keep it standing. Andrian grew up in the Castle, even in these modern times. He was treated more like a Prince than a rich boy. At least, by the numerous servants they had waiting on them. He was mostly left alone, his parents to busy to have any sort of time for him, and they filled his lonesome days with as much as they could. He learned fencing, horseback riding, shooting, sword fighting, martial arts, dancing, singing, music, and all other forms of talents from private tutors and trainers gathered from various parts of the globe. He also had private tutors for history, science, and other subjects, for he wasn't allowed to attend other schools. His parents thought it would be too degrading for a young man of such high upbringing to be seen with lesser folks. Even those who attended the private or boarding schools. Because of his constant isolation, he had no friends at all, and doesn't know how to express any feelings. He finds enough of a social life with the servants, and the occasional adults at his family's parties and gatherings, but that is where it ends. This makes him something of socially awkward. Not that he doesn't know how to socialize, no. He just doesn't know how to socialize with normal, average people. He always talks with a high vocabulary, and seems to always be in a state of formal composure. Even when he's alone and himself, he does everything with a dignified air. He's also very good at hiding his inner thoughts. Even his micro expressions are undiscernable. Rarely will you see his expression change during conversation. If he disagrees or agrees, you wouldn't know. Despite his anti-socialism, he knows how to converse with people quite well, and because of the anti-socialism, you never know his true feelings, hidden behind a deceptive mask. He has become quite the clever politician and debater because of his circumstances. Recently, he was found to be a Silvertongue; a completely heartless killer possessing the power of speechcraft. He can manipulate and control things with his voice, turning people and animals into puppets. He can even read things into existence on occasion. He has been practicing for years, but only recently was he discovered. In a fit of rage, he told his mother to stab herself with a knife. She survived, and he was thoroughly punished. Now he has been sent to Mercury Boarding School to learn more about his strange power and hopefully find a better use for it.
Lazlo Hexen Valentine and Valence Wolfgang Nazaire
take me off
Two souls. One body. An impossibility has become a possibility. Lazlo Hexen Valentine and Valence Wolfgang Nazaire are two completely different people sharing a singular vessel. The circumstances of this odd conjoining are not nearly as bizarre as one could think. Though, if one has never even heard of Skinlings, then perhaps it can be viewed as a dark and terrible misfortune for the original owner of said body. Lazlo Hexen Valentine, referred to by any name as it suits others, is the surrogate; the original soul who own the original body. Depending on which soul is active determines how he behaves, how he acts, what he does, and how he thinks, as well as what powers he has. Lazlo, the surrogate, has the power of Mind over Matter. If he says to a person Sit down! they will sit down wether they want to or not. If he says to glass Shatter! It will shatter wether it has reason to or not. This takes high levels of concentration, and if not done properly, the orders may backfire, causing deadly results. Valence Wolfgang Nazair, the hitchhiker as it were, is a rare creature able to jump from body to body, called a Skinling. The power only lasts for certain periods of time in which he will be snapped back to his original body. Unfortunately, he had jumped into Lazlo, and then his body was killed, trapping him inside Lazlo's body. It appears to be permanent, but they continually search for a new body for Valence. Their combined powers can prove to be very effective in battle, though they seldom use them for personal reasons. It is difficult for them to be in this way, but after several years they have become accustomed and coordinated in such a fashion as to get by well enough. Problems still arise to be sure, and frustrations are rife, but in the end they have no choice but to manage. As for the individuals themselves, they keep their identities primarily to themselves, though they each know just about everything on each other. Lazlo Valentine was born in Nova Scotia. His mother was a teenager and his father ended up a corpse. His parents were engaged but never married, but he took on his father's surname nonetheless. His mother named him after her favorite photographer, as she was an aspiring, and sadly, failed artist. The middle name is a word meaning "witch", and alludes to a possible German heritage in magic. Lazlo himself discovered his ability of mind over matter at a very young age. His mother had no abilities or special traits being purely human, and figured it came from his father. He grew up comfortably enough on the farm where they lived, but as he grew older, their financial situation became more dire. At age twelve, he met a man who offered him a job in Ontario. Lazlo's mother agreed, and he willingly went with the man to get the job. How sadly mistaken he was. The truck took a detour down into the states, and Lazlo was packed in a shipping crate on board a private plane and flown down to the southern states. Where exactly, he didn't know. A victim of human trafficking, he was constantly shipped off to various locations, sent to work as a slave in various factories and several mines. The work was hard and several times he nearly lost his life. It wasn't till he was sixteen that hope came in the form of a large black van. He was currently in India, slaving in a dye factory, when a group of rescuers, sent by a special relief organization, stormed the factory and stole as many people away as they could. Hope was in sight, but Lazlo lost them in the chaos. Fearing his life when the overseers pulled out guns and started shooting, Lazlo fled. He ended up wandering for a month, terrified and confused, until he found authorities and was able to get back to Canada. He found his mother had moved, and with no idea where she went to, he turned to living on his own. It was then he rediscovered his suppressed and forgotten abilities. He used his power to become a very successful dog trainer. It was one of these nights when he was out walking one of his own dogs, when he stumbled across a battle. Suddenly there was darkness, and when he awakened, someone else was there... inside him. That was when the life of Lazlo ended and the life of Lazlo&Valence began. Valence himself has a story. He has no knowledge of who his family was. His earliest memories are of living in a monastery. He didn't want to become a monk or anything, and the cold climate of Ireland wasn't much to his liking. He grew up happy of course, but by the time he was eleven, he figured he had his life all worked out, and set off for adventures. By the time he was eleven he was quite a natural at jumping from body to body, and thought that all sorts of fun could come out of it. He didn't find many adventures. Most of his months on his own were spent sitting on a street curb begging for money. His talent in singing like an angelic choir boy helped an awful lot, but it also made people pity him and ask questions that he didn't want to answer. When he turned thirteen, he began using his inborn ability for his own selfish purposes. He became a wondrous theif. Not that he physically stole anything. He would jump into a woman's body, dig in her purse, and place all the money into his hands, make her walk a few blocks away, then jump back. He would make a man buy him food from a food stand or fast food place. Little by little he made them give him things as well as money. Expensive stuff, or just stuff he wanted. He became a bit arrogant and even reckless. He didn't care for the consequences, it wasn't as if anyone could really suspect him. How wrong he was. He made a werewolf give him money, not aware that it was a werewolf he controlled. when he jumped back, the werewolf sniffed out his money and beat Valence within an inch of his life. It took a few more similar encounters for Valence to finally learn how ridiculous he was behaving. It was as though he had gone through a complete character change. He became secretive, mistrustful, and seldom used his abilities. He now had a different plan in mind. He was intrigued by these unnatural people. Vampires, werewolves, shifters, ghosts, you name it. He used his ability to sneak about the city, exposing hidden secrets and information. The more he learned about the supernatural, the more he hated it. He began to kill. For five years, until he was seventeen, he did nothing but hunt and slay every supernatural creature he could lay his hands on. He became feared and hated beyond measure; a hunter who hunted his own kind. There wasn't much logic in it, but that was what he did. One night, during a battle, he jumped into a nearby body in an effort to surprise his opponent with an attack from the side. That was the wrong move. He could only stare helplessly as his body was ripped apart. Now he is forever trapped inside this other body with another soul named Lazlo. At first they despised each other, but after a while they learned how to deal. They are friends, better than friends, but they never admit it and always have this attitude of rivals. Because of this odd conjoining of souls, both boys' aging process has slowed to a crawl. Lazlo is truly 25 and Valence is 26, but the body appears to be sixteen. The body has black hair, pale skin, and gleaming crimson eyes. Lazlo's eyes were blue and Valence's were a creamy gold, but ever since the jump, the eyes have turned red. The body is strong and lean, agile and fast. Their combined knowledge and vigorous training has created them a powerful vessel. Though they share a body, they are of two minds. Lazlo is patient, antisocial, and can come across as rude and unfeeling. He doesn't relate well, and tells people to mind their own business. He prefers to be alone in some serene nature setting, or perhaps around animals. Valence isn't quite a direct opposite but some say he is. He is quiet and a bit of a loner too, but unlike Lazlo, he opens up around people he considers cool or would make good rivals. He loves a challenge and would never back down from a dare. He's adventurous and surprisingly optimistic. He still harbors hatred towards supernaturals for a hidden reason, but he doesn't let it show. He likes cooking, going out at night, and watching or reading anything to do with horror, violence, or just plain old blood and gore in general. He still jumps from body to body but hardly anyone notices he's there as he has become more subtle about it. The two of them have come to Mercury in hopes of learning more about their condition and hopefully they will learn how to do something about it.
Rangiku Foxtare
He's a thousand and one things but none of them at all. He's complex but so easy to read. He is and was and never will be and always will. He loves and hates and yearns and fears. He existed then but not tomorrow because he's dead, dead I tell you! But he was born yesterday and he can't remember where the time goes. He's so old now. He's always waiting for his children to come home but he doesn't want children when he grows up because he's not ready to grow up and now he waits for it all to end. A deathbed. A hospital. Oh god! What's that sound? He likes the sound of classical music but can't stand it. And oh, there goes that annoying neighbor blaring his rap from a boom box but he lives in the middle of nowhere and has no neighbors, and that filthy apartment he lives in is so cramped with the lady down the hall and her fifty cats and his condo needs new wallpaper. He hates cats but he loves them so much. He owns two, thirty, four, one. It died yesterday. He just bought it an hour ago. He's allergic to cats. No he isn't. Deathly allergic. He died from a cat allergy. His grandma died of a cat allergy. No she didn't. His grandma is still alive. She lives in Mexico and makes cookies and everyday she walks to the bookstore near the eiffel tower to buy the latest doilies made in Italy because she doesn't like omelets without cheese and he never met his grandmother. He killed his grandmother. His mother was so upset and she was in prison for murdering his little sister while she bikes everywhere because she's into health and fitness and pregnant with a new baby but she hates frozen meals and snores while she sleeps. She carries a knife it's blue like the sky, the sky, a park a swing and he swings on the swing while a man in an orange coat with rotten teeth bangs his head on a wall and there's no sound because the world has ended in fire and the people are melting and there's a cloud in the sky that looks like an umbrella. Oh god the people are melting. And he drinks and drinks the pain away and he can hardly make the proper incision to save the melting man under his quivering hands. Old hands, they're so young and pockmarked and wrinkled and black and white and black and he's in a field picking flowers. And there's men all around him singing a song he knows but he's never heard it before. And he dances with the lady in the red ball gown with the black mask covering her face. And she's beautiful, so beautiful, and she spins and twirls and dances and the candles light her eyes till she's on fire. He holds the torch against her body and she melts and dies and screams and he laughs because he hates her. She cheated on him. He beats her over and over again while they roll on the bedroom floor and until her face is black and purple and red and he mauls that beautiful face because he hates her so much after he broke that vase while a mockingbird cried out and he shot the old man so he could have money and live another day. And he stands in the doorway and cries because the knife he holds is red. RED! He made it red. It's all over his arms. Oh god, please end it. So beautiful! Oh please, don't make it end. Let him see blood and blood forever and he laughs in the face of a child eating mud because their's no food. And they huddle under moth eaten blankets while icicles grow round the foot of their bed and they curl into their mother's stiff body, she already died of the cold, and all his little siblings turn to stone one by one till the only heart beating is his and he waits and waits for his father to come and take them away from this cold house. His father is coming, coming for him, coming to beat the life out of him. So he huddles under the stairs and waits, and his breath catches in his throat and they're at a table, laughing and talking and passing the food around and then it's so loud and noisy and where are his car keys? They're always in his right pocket. He's left handed and lost his left hand in the war when he was overseas scuba diving in the coral reef, Australia, with kangaroos and then the zookeeper tells him to leave while he wonders where his mom is and they're all going to the fair but he hates the roller coasters so he eats cotton candy while watching a 3D movie and then there's a giant bat flying down from a cave roof and he trips and falls but he's alright so they ring another doorbell and say trick or treat to get candy and they're on the bus to Disney. He's loved, unloved, unwanted, hated admired. Oh he's so pretty and smiling and he's all crying and lying bleeding in an alley and no one will save him. No one will save him. He failed them... failed them all. He coughs up blood and struggles to breathe, and the air in his lungs is foul. He breathes in blood. It bruns. It burns. An no one comes to see the boy drifting away. No one but the sky as it breaks down and cries for him, its cold tears showering him in pity and ice.
He exists.
He can't remember his name.
He wrote it on his arm.
Carved it in with a knife.
So he can always check and see.
Every red stripe he makes helps him remember.
Who he is.
How old he is.
Where he comes from.
What he's doing here.
He can't remember.
Because he remembers everything else.
Because he remembers what everyone ELSE remembers.
And nothing more.
Rangiku's story can't really start at the beginning, for the beginning was awfully rushed and just bloody confusing to anyone who would first hear it start there. So for the benefit of those who seek to actually understand, this story must begin before the beginning. It would be best to start with someone like his great-great-great-great-grandfather, who was actually the one who began everything. Unfortunately there has been a collective decrease in the attention span of the majority of earth's population, therefore making the story begin all the way back there would make it long and put all the mindless listeners or readers to sleep. So let us skip all the great grandfathers and zero straight in on Rangiku's father. His father was a Colonel in the marines. We withhold his name because it has long been withheld from Rangiku, and for Rangiku's sake it will continue to be withheld. What can be let known is that Rangiku's father, the Colonel in the marines, was the sort of man who never let sleeping dogs lie. He was a full, red-blooded patriot and would love nothing better than to die taking a bullet to save an
wasn't always his name.
He exists.
He can't remember his name.
He wrote it on his arm.
Carved it in with a knife.
So he can always check and see.
Every red stripe he makes helps him remember.
Who he is.
How old he is.
Where he comes from.
What he's doing here.
He can't remember.
Because he remembers everything else.
Because he remembers what everyone ELSE remembers.
And nothing more.
Rangiku's story can't really start at the beginning, for the beginning was awfully rushed and just bloody confusing to anyone who would first hear it start there. So for the benefit of those who seek to actually understand, this story must begin before the beginning. It would be best to start with someone like his great-great-great-great-grandfather, who was actually the one who began everything. Unfortunately there has been a collective decrease in the attention span of the majority of earth's population, therefore making the story begin all the way back there would make it long and put all the mindless listeners or readers to sleep. So let us skip all the great grandfathers and zero straight in on Rangiku's father. His father was a Colonel in the marines. We withhold his name because it has long been withheld from Rangiku, and for Rangiku's sake it will continue to be withheld. What can be let known is that Rangiku's father, the Colonel in the marines, was the sort of man who never let sleeping dogs lie. He was a full, red-blooded patriot and would love nothing better than to die taking a bullet to save an
wasn't always his name.
Madigan Darach Foxtare
Bodyguard to Rangiku
32 years old
Served Rangiku's father.
Rangiku was given to him shortly after he was born. Madigan was asked (not ordered) to take care of him. Madigan agreed and they fled.
Madigan eventually named the boy Rangiku.
He also gave Rangiku his own surname while they were on the run. Made it easier since Rangiku could then pass for his brother/son/etc even though they aren't actually related.
Madigan discovered something was wrong with the boy when Rangiku turned five and began to talk about Madigan's life, things Madigan never told Rangiku, or anyone else about. As time passed, he learned that Rangiku was adopting other people's memories. For a while, it didn't seem so bad sicne they only came into contact with a few people. But as they continued traversing across cities and the world even, the situation became more dire until suddenly spiraling out of control.
Madigan heard of Mercury and brought Rangiku there to hopefully help him.
32 years old
Served Rangiku's father.
Rangiku was given to him shortly after he was born. Madigan was asked (not ordered) to take care of him. Madigan agreed and they fled.
Madigan eventually named the boy Rangiku.
He also gave Rangiku his own surname while they were on the run. Made it easier since Rangiku could then pass for his brother/son/etc even though they aren't actually related.
Madigan discovered something was wrong with the boy when Rangiku turned five and began to talk about Madigan's life, things Madigan never told Rangiku, or anyone else about. As time passed, he learned that Rangiku was adopting other people's memories. For a while, it didn't seem so bad sicne they only came into contact with a few people. But as they continued traversing across cities and the world even, the situation became more dire until suddenly spiraling out of control.
Madigan heard of Mercury and brought Rangiku there to hopefully help him.
Speariox
Speariox died. Everyone knows that. But what not everyone knows, is that he came back to life.
Speariox was nothing but a soul, a soul still attached to this earth. Along came Ennio, and he brought a dead bird back to life using his power. Speariox's soul happened to be in the right place at the right time, and BAM! His soul was sucked into the bird's body. Because of his nature, the body was forcibly transformed into a normal looking cat. Well, pretty normal. His fur is so dark purple it appears black except the purple comes out under certain lighting. And his eyes are their trademark, glowing gold. Speariox remembers nothing of his past except that his name is Speariox. Perhaps those who knew him when he was alive can help him.
He has a strange ability, you could say. His old abilities forgotten, Speariox can now transform into a giant, demonic bird creature. Hard to describe its appearance except for the dragon-like face, the narrowed gleaming eyes, a unicorn-like horn protruding from its head, and the long wispy shadows of its body and wings.
Speariox was nothing but a soul, a soul still attached to this earth. Along came Ennio, and he brought a dead bird back to life using his power. Speariox's soul happened to be in the right place at the right time, and BAM! His soul was sucked into the bird's body. Because of his nature, the body was forcibly transformed into a normal looking cat. Well, pretty normal. His fur is so dark purple it appears black except the purple comes out under certain lighting. And his eyes are their trademark, glowing gold. Speariox remembers nothing of his past except that his name is Speariox. Perhaps those who knew him when he was alive can help him.
He has a strange ability, you could say. His old abilities forgotten, Speariox can now transform into a giant, demonic bird creature. Hard to describe its appearance except for the dragon-like face, the narrowed gleaming eyes, a unicorn-like horn protruding from its head, and the long wispy shadows of its body and wings.
Faux Sapien
Faux Sapien isn't actually human, rather, he isn't actally real. He is simply a wax figurine made by a powerful sorceress. She fell in love with the statue and brought it to life. He freezes when it is cold or nighttime, and becomes more alive when he warms up or in the sun. Too much heat and he will melt. He wants to be freed of his body, and dreams of burning forever in the stars. It's a silly dream, but it is his greatest. The sorceress was constantly distressed by the idea that his silly dream meant he wanted to commit suicide and forbade him from leaving the tower where they lived. He didn't seem to mind at first, since he had no idea of the outside world to begin with. After living in solitary with the enamored sorceress for twenty years, he wanted to see and experience the world. She was reluctant to let him go at first, but eventually gave in. She sent him to Mercury Boarding School to learn more about the bizarre world he is a part of, and all the magic and mystery within it. He might not have any powers, but he definitely needs to learn how to survive in the magical world, having been sheltered for so long. He's a little awkward around people, but once you get to know him, he is a really interesting... er... guy. Faux Sapien's name is an allusion to his being. Faux: fake. Sapien: human. A fake human. That's all he is and probably will be. Faux Sapien has light colored skin, pale yellow eyes, and pale brown hair. He seems completely capable of human feelings, emotions, and thoughts, but that has yet to be fully verified. He has been seventeen all his life, since he was born to the present.